@sunny98 Thank you for posting. This does seem to be the forgotten topic in the cancer world of topics. It seems that everything else takes the priority, bumping the emotional further and further down "the list" (which of course, makes sense, because if we don't prioritize the physical, none of us would be here). What I appreciate is that you are 12 years out and that you are writing about the emotional aftermath. And I agree with you, it is a silent suffering of sorts . . . since everyone else sees you as whole again because your physical body is not being ravaged by chemo, surgery or radiation at the moment. I am 3 years out from TNBC and 2 years out from endometrial. Emotionally, when I'd finished the chemo for TNBC and my hair was growing back, I felt like I had a handle (at least in part) of the emotional leftovers. . . and then came the uterine cancer. Not the same beast as the first, but still yet from the cancer-camp. That diagnosis hit me broadside. I was not expecting that - surely, after all that chemo that I had endured. Thankfully, though, the diagnosis meant robotic surgery, no chemo. But I had to add another surgery to my "list" that already had a number of procedures yet to do. This is my first summer in four years that did not have a surgery schedule. A milestone for me. 🙂

I wish I could say I have traveled through far enough on the emotional side of things, but I'm unable to say that yet. What I've realized as of late is that my inside is still yet so tired, and there is not a lot of margin for error in my daily - meaning, it doesn't take a lot to throw me off my game (and BTW, my "game" doesn't look the same as before cancer). I reengaged into my life. . . went back to running my business, took on a kitchen remodel that I'd been planning for years, and went back to much of my former life. . . . but the truth is, my life today is not my former life anymore. And there is a sort of wrestling with that. I miss the energy I once had, and the energizer-bunny type of positivity. Of course, not every day was wonderful before cancer, but it can be challenging to remind yourself of this after cancer, when that experience colorizes everything you see and feel moving forward.

I started being more transparent with my GYN, and we talked about what I could do if I needed (medication). I chose, rather, to seek out the professional opinion of a Christian psychologist I know, and just started the course of meeting with him regularly. Sitting in that office gives me a safe space to unload everything I've been carrying, helps me validate the events that happened to me, and begin to work through what is left over. There are days I don't feel very warrior-like, but I remind myself that feelings cannot always be trusted, and I tell myself the truth about what I've been through. "Keep pushing forward, baby!" That makes me smile . . .because it is in the push that we move forward - even if only not to lose ground and fall back. Sometimes, it's enough just to maintain. 🙂

Thank you again for your post. It's important for those of us who have recently exited the cancer corral to know that it's okay that this thing takes time.

Blessings. 😉

Can I ask details of your diagnosis to give me some hope. Are they in another post?
So glad you are feeling better 12 yrs out. I just started. I Am deciding whether to take tamoxifen.

You hit the nail directly on the head. No one could have said it better and so succinctly. I’m grieving me that used to do everything and didn’t look like I came home from the war. God, it was good to read that someone understood it went beyond vanity.

Thank you for making my day and bringing insight back to me.